Revolution Changes Nothing
by Beyond Stone Walls
Summary: Jason van Zyl is a reluctant Order Member on patrol when he runs into a high profile Death Eater, Desdemona Cruxis. A battle soon ensues and various tools are used. Such as a wooded 2x4.
1. Chapter 1

Jason van Zyl is an Order Member who is nearly as bad as a Death Eater with the only difference being that he is nobody's tool, least of all Lord Voldemort's. Desdemona Cruxis is the de-facto leader of the Death Eaters with a problem with everyone. This is one of the many threads between a Death Eater and an Order member on the Harry Potter RPG Beyond Stone Walls. Each chapter goes back and forth between the two characters involved. View the original here: **beyondstonewalls . com ****/index . php** **/ topic , 2679 . msg 24088 . html # msg 24088 **without the spaces.**  
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The twenty-two year old Jason van Zyl sniffled slightly before spitting bile onto the black streets of Nocturn Alley to the left of his heavy Dr. Martens boots. He was leaning against a lamp post, and trying to think about why he had left South Africa as he found himself irked significantly by the rain that was currently pouring onto his head, soaking the black hair and leaving the black leather jacket he wore slick with the sheets of rain. He wanted to smoke but there was no way that he would be able to get his lighter alight in this rain, and so he stood in relative darkness staring into the streets for inspiration. He was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. An interesting development. Not, perhaps, unexpected, he was here for violent justice and a chance to start pulling people's faces off. He noticed few on his side were criminals. He was just what they needed.

This was what they called his patrol, though he had stopped his aimless wandering ages ago, preferring to loiter around a single area. In fact, Jason didn't really know the area well enough to go wandering about in the pouring rain, and he wasn't going to take a chance at getting completely lost. It was raining and he'd never find his way back. He had been told expressly not to start any sort of fight, but a fight was exactly what Jason was going to do if anyone stumbled across his path this evening. No war had every been done by wandering creaky side streets and hoping to apprehend people who were already committing crimes. A preemptive strike was needed to keep people safe, but somehow Ares had not managed to understand that. Fortunately Jason was more than well versed in the strategy of attacking wrongdoers before they could do more harm. He wouldn't sit idle by when known criminals were on the loose.

Hearing voices emerge from the pouring rain he stepped out of the pool of light so that he would not be noticed. Though his boots made heavy noises as he stalked away, ruining his subtlety somewhat. The South African took a few tentative steps, trying to decide which way was the direction of the voices. He brushed the heavy and soaking black fringe out of his eyes as he casually sauntered towards the voices, his mouth drawn in a straight line. His breath was masked by the heavily rushing water that seemed to crowd his ears in ways that made him feel like some sort of predator on the Savannah. They could not know of his approach as he made his way to the mouth of an alleyway. The voices were speaking softly but angrily, it was the rushing water that gave the sounds the distance that was needed for Jason to follow them.

One of them said something that sounded distinctly like 'Death Eater', and that was all he needed to be put on attack. Pulling his wand out of his jacket pocket he made his way slightly deeper into the alleyway. Pausing once or twice to see if he had been noticed. Finally two figures became visible in the shadows, it seemed to him that he hadn't been noticed, or perhaps if he had he was not being acknowledged by the pair. Frustrated by the delay Jason finally kicked over a trash can, looking at the pair who had been fighting with a dark smile twisting its way into his face. The both stopped what they were talking about to look at the newcomer. All the man wanted was a fight, and these two had mentioned Death Eater, that was a legitimate reason for him to attack them wasn't it? He answered his own question with a emphatic 'yes, obviously'.

There were two of them, a man and a woman. The woman was quite short, though the man looked far more uncomfortable in the situation. The man worked on a strategy that would involve knocking the man out quickly and then dispatching the woman. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head slightly, as though trying to decide which one of the pair he would like to tear to pieces first. The man just gazed his icy stare from the corner of the alley and spoke in his deep voice "What do we have here" He was a brad new member of the Order of the Phoenix and already he was relishing what was likely to end up being his first official reprimand.


	2. Chapter 2

Desdemona wanted to rear back her hand and smack Bram across his pointed pasty white face. Every time the so-called Death Eater uttered so much as a mumbled breath she could feel her skin crawl with disgust. Why in the bloody hell she had to suffer with him tagging along with beyond her very comprehension, but alas she suffered through it in a revered silence, while the insides of her mouth stained with crimson from the amount of tongue biting she was self inflicting. Corbet was better off dead, and by this point Des was willing to go that extra step to make it happen. Perhaps this is why she could never hold down a steady partnership, murdering both Rogi and Igor after she was done with them seemed practical at the time, but alas, being alone was never easy. It was hard to believe that Des was ever capable of anything more than malevolence... yet there once was a time where the Death Eater could honestly feel love. But that time had long passed, and no trace of it could be seen behind her blood colored eyes. Being alone was just another chapter of her pathetic little life, and besides, she wasn't alone right now... unfortunately.

Bram had lied to his wife, again, about his whereabouts for this evening, again. He had no choice, the ultimatum he was clear as crystal. Either follow suit with the path he had chosen so hastily in his misguided youth, or watch Petra and his children be murdered before his eyes. So there he was, the taller shadow of his female counterpart, following her absentmindedly to where ever she was leading them. Apparently they were doing surveillance on certain Order of the Phoenix members, this one in particular seemed to spark the interest of their chosen company. Jason van Zyl. It was said out of Ares' misshapen mangled mess of an Order that this man in particular seemed the most... peculiar. Exhibiting said characteristics of a ruthless murderer more than a mindless oaf, Zyl seemed more of a fit for the Death Eaters than anything else. It was for this reason alone that he needed to be either converted or eliminated. Such a threat needed to be stopped dead in its tracks if it was fighting for the wrong side.

The rain was relentless in its effort to soak the two of them to the core as they crossed through the darkened alley way beneath the moonlight. Des was enjoying the cleansing when she was suddenly taken off her game. Bram had passed her in the darkness and removed his Death Eater's mask from the inside pocket of his duster, placing it over his face. This only benefited to infuriate her more, and she couldn't wait for the day she would be able to gouge his eyes out with a toothpick. He turned to her as the rain dampened the masks' features and soaked his dark hair with an unseen smile. Beneath the covering his mouth opened to speak, but no sooner had his lips parted that Des had her wand out only inches from his heart.

"Do you want everyone to know that you're a soddening _death eater_?" She hissed, pushing the tip of her wand into his leather duster with a sick pleasure. "Do you want to get us murdered? Stop pissing around you novice twit!"

Bram didn't have time to respond, he barely had time to remove the mask and shove it back down into his inside pocket when the trash cans fell before them in a forceful heap. Both their heads shot to look at the man before them, and Des immediately knew this was Zyl, and that he had been watching them for much longer than she would have preferred. If he heard them fighting it would only cease to benefit him. What better - or rather, easier - opponents to take down than the two that already despise one another? Her and Bram would seal their own fates if they kept up the way they were going.

His voice was distinct over the slamming rain, and Des stepped forward to speak to their most invited guest.

"Well well well, if it isn't Jason van Zyl; the man that every side desires."

As she spoke, Bram descended back into the shadows, fingers intwining his wand with the serious thoughts of simply apparating out of there to avoid the situation that was about to unfold. He was nothing more than a coward now, where Des was a ruthless lioness.

"Tell me, what brings you out on such a bitter evening?" Her head cocked to the side and she smiled crookedly at him, her wand in striking position at all times. The games were only beginning.


	3. Chapter 3

He was slightly caught off guard when the woman spoke his name so carelessly. She knew of him, he felt the muscles in his eyes tense up a bit. He wasn't sure what to make of this, did the Death Eaters already have intelligence on him? Was there a mole in the Order of the Phoenix. He twisted his face into a smile but the gears in his brain were rushing. How could she know so quickly? Perhaps You-Know-Who had powers beyond what Jason gave him credit for. In spite of himself Jason's stomach turned a bit. Though the moment of fumbling weakness never met his face which remained cold and stony in the pouring rain.

He smirked darkly, a twisted smile on his lips, "Guess the accent gave me away" Chuckling to himself a little he walked towards the pair slowly. His South African descent giving him an extremely distinctive slur amongst all of the English whom he encountered. He should really just speak in German or French, where the accent was less noticeable. Jason was a clever man, and languages were something he was exceptionally talented at. He didn't care that he had been recognized, it was unlikely either one would remember anything from the night barring the pain that he was going to inflict upon them.

Rain was rushing down violently, making his black hair slick and shiny. The Death Eater man was already halfway to fleeing, he sneered darkly at the retreating shadow "I see, it seems as though your friend is a little sheepish." The shadows on his wet face betraying hate flashing in his blue eyes. He wanted an opponent to be strong enough to match him and not slinking off into the shadows. They would not escape Jason van Zyl. He cracked the knuckles on his left hand slowly, wand still between the fingers of his right. He was waiting, sizing up his prey, thinking. Jason van Zyl's brain may be painted red with blood, but that didn't mean that he didn't enjoy the tension before the kill. The moment before flesh separated from bone.

He paused and stopped, a few feet away from the woman, smiling politely, though mockingly "I'm just enjoying the lovely English night. You seem to know my name, but I can't say the honour is mutual, Miss..." he paused leaving a blank for her to fill in. He expected an alias, but that was better than nothing, he supposed. He tilted his head to the side a bit allowing his neck to crack slightly. He was ready to attack, even if he was just standing observing his prey with a light twisted smile in his face. He loved the water rushing in rivulets all over his face. He couldn't say that he missed the heat of Africa, the water would clean the streets if he made anyone bleed rather than have it congeal in the dry streets to turn black.

He looked to the shrinking man, assuming he would probably aparate as soon as the African attacked, therefore it made sense to disable him first, and then attack the woman if he wanted both of them. And he did. He balanced himself loosely, wand at the ready, accepting that a conversation was required to justify this to the arrogant Alexander Graves but well aware that with people like this he would probably not be forced to wait too long, for the fight that he so craved. The Order of the Phoenix had absolutely no initiative, they wanted to eradicate this group now? They should start when things were small and underground.

The rain pounded in the skulls and shoulders of the three parties as they sized each other up in the alley. Van Zyl was craving the moment the fight began, but he stood tall and casually as the woman observed him, there was something animalistic about the pre battle posturing of both sides. They were no longer human at all and nothing but beasts about to defend their rights to survival. Jason was not going to back down after all, it was just a short woman, and her sniveling child of a side kick. No matter that van Zyl was only twenty-two, anyone as weak as the cowering opponent was a child to him.


	4. Chapter 4

Even through the drowning down pour of heavy rain, Desdemona could still hear Bram's slinking footsteps scurry back further and further from their objective prey. He was giving them away as weak and spineless, and it took greater control that she was used too to not turn around and blast the coward from his spot, reduce him to nothing more than a steaming pile of ash. At least then she would be able to carry on this mission without hesitation, without the sensation of being substandard. This was not how she liked to work... But alas, all she could do in the meantime was grit her teeth under the snarl that immersed her crimson lips and continue on with her objective with mild consideration for the man fading behind her. If van Zyl killed him, it was one less murder to cross off her check list.

ignoring the situation behind her, Des focused her energy to the man before them. He had come exceedingly close to her, within only a few feet of her wand. If what she was informed was true, van Zyl was not going anywhere with out a fight. Unlike the many others in the Order, he had a reputation for playing the game quite well. It was unfortunate that he had so many extraordinary qualities being put to such idle use. If only she could convince him to join the other side, but such a grovel would be futile and she was well aware of it. Desdemona was positive this night would end in nothing more than the bloodshed of van Zyl, and if she could, of Corbet too.

"My friend knows what is expected of him... and that it is in his best interest that he stay. But that is besides the point, it's not him you should be concerned with." She slithered, just loud enough to hear over the pounding droplets that encased her entire body. Her raven hair was matted down her face and back, covering her ears and muffling the world around her. She knew what she looked like to him - she could almost see it in his smug gaze. It was what everyone saw her as, a defenseless debilitated woman, small and limp with her petite frame and tiny stature. That didn't bother her, her looks had always been deceiving... and their assumptions worked in her benefit. Yet if there was one thing she ever learned in all her years of tyranny, it was that no one should ever underestimate their opposition. So Des never did.

"My name is Desdemona Cruxis, and I've come to offer you a proposition Mr. Van Zyl, one that I suggest you take some time to mull over before a hasty response."

Her wand fell down toward her side as she took a step forward, eyebrow arched as her head cocked slightly to the side. Her fingers still gripped on tightly to the wood in her hand, ready for the moment when they would light up the storm with their fury. She could tell that Bram had stopped fleeting into the shadows, she could hear his staggered breathing between her own. Perhaps her little reminder had brought the spineless snake to his senses. "Seems news of you travels quickly here in London. The Dark Lord has taken a liking to you, says that you have such brilliant talent that it's a shame to see you wasting them on the wrong side. I've been sent here to see if I could sway your mind."

_And if you won't sway, my next task is to exterminate you..._. Her corrupt smile danced through the shadows on her drenched face. Desdemona just couldn't wait for the slaughter to begin.


	5. Chapter 5

The violently hissing rain made the Death Eaters very difficult to hear at first, but he did catch a name. "Desdemona Cruxis". Those words could not leave his memory. He would have a report for the God of War after all. That he had met Desdemona Cruxis. Even if this was another alias at least the man would have something to say. He didn't think Alex would believe two random Death Eaters. But a name. Yes. A name was something that he could work with. The smile was hard to keep from his face; the sense of narrow justification was a sweet one. The Order of the Phoenix was trying very hard to keep him reigned in, restrained from too much violence, drawing too much attention to them. This was difficult for them.

The man nodded at his cowering adversary. "Glad you know your place, sir," he smirked condescendingly at the retreating male. Hoping to bait him into a confrontation, more than anything Jason just wanted a god damned fight. But he would have to wait, he couldn't just jump at two Death Eaters without the slightest inkling of a plan. That would only end in a funeral. His in particular. Yes, he was a violent and hate filled man, but he was also extremely smart, and one thing he recognized as not smart would be jumping at the throat of two Death Eaters. No matter how badly he wanted to, and despite the cowardice of the one.

"I'm sure you think I'm one of those precious young idealists." He yawned a little bit, to perhaps indicate his utter boredom with this assumption. This led to heavy rain falling into his dry mouth he swirled it around distastefully. He had the urge to spit it out, but deciding that was a bit too inflammatory for right now he sufficed to swallow the bile. He raised his eyes back to the face of the small woman pompously. Her thoughts were not that important, but he had a point to make and that was pretty critical.

"You're very wrong in that assumption though," he smiled delicately, but it wasn't a particularly nice one. His face may be attractive but it was tempered by the sheer malice that the light and shadow from the rushing rain only seemed to be emphasizing. He wanted to hurt people and he wanted to hurt them properly as soon as humanly possible. "I'm not fighting for the Order because I believe their ideals are any better or any worse than yours." He paused again, the air had taken on a dead quality despite the violently seething water. He was taking his time with his speech though he wasn't completely sure why this would be the case. Maybe he just liked standing in the pissing rain, ha, ha. How many times had he been outside a bar in Africa dreaming of rain like this.

"I just suspect that you lot will be far more interesting opponents then they are." This revelation was almost eerie in its truth and how it hung there for a moment for Jason to visualize in the atmosphere. True the Order of the Phoenix didn't intimidate him much. Sure some of their number had the skills and training to be interesting opponents, but only in passing really. The Death Eaters, as he knew them were a cavalcade of cartoonish evil characters who could do with a Dr. Marten sandwich of some description. He was actually getting quite pleased just thinking about the wonderful love story of Boot meets Skull.

"So," he tried to keep his accent from falling to heavily and failed miserably. "If your proposition is what I think it is, then the answer is an impolite 'fuck off'." No use pretending like he had the good sense to use his manners. Though his muscles bristled he expected an attack, and now he was watching her hands carefully. She would throw a curse, and he would have to move. That much was obvious. If he declined then she was supposed to kill him. He has completely stopped looking at the man then all his attention completely focused on the woman. A dangerous move, but he wagered that whoever the other was he wasn't going to be attacking the South African any time soon.


	6. Chapter 6

Bram stopped dead in his tracks with van Zyl's snide remark, but he didn't answer, he barely took so much as a breath; he dared not give him the satisfaction of knowing that he almost got to him. _Almost_. But he was right, Bram knew his place, and he knew that in the end it wasn't there with Cruxis' on yet another mediocre task that would led them both into a certain duel. It was at home, with his wife and their insanely popular night club, a beer and a smoke. Desdemona also heard the cease in her cohorts decline, and an eyebrow arched at the sudden lack of cowardice going on behind her. Perhaps their given objective had struck a nerve with the wavering Death Eater, at least then if she let Jason kill him, it would save her the effort of committing the deed herself.

With hands still unattached to her wand, the small woman continued pretending to listen to van Zyl talk, although the conversation was pretty much nonexistence from his second statement on. If the circumstances had been different, Des would have loved to pick this young man's brain, the way he thought was so uncanny that it intrigued her. It was a pure pity that she was going to have to eliminate him for the sake of her Dark Lord; Jason seemed a rare specimen.

The rain was pouring harder now, dripping into her crimson eyes and matting her raven hair down the sides of her face in an eerie spectacle. Towards the end of his little tirade she was almost straining to catch every word between the downpour and howling wind, but she knew the gist of it, and frankly it no longer mattered what he was saying. "You're a smug little shit, aren't you?" Desdemona snarled, and Bram stiffened behind her, knowing from the rasp in her voice what was coming next. The battle was about to begin.

Had they not been on the same side, Bram would have been so undeniably terrified of the petite creature that he would have fled at her name. He wanted to do that now, but it was the same undeniable terror that kept him bolted to the spot in useless stature, watching the scene unfold as if it were set in slow motion. Her small white hand, monsterish looking despite its size, grasped a hold of the base of her wand, and through the pounding rain he heard her cry before he saw the green flash light up the alleyway with its brilliance.

Bram had only seen the spell in action one other time in his life, and it was the with the same woman, only about a week before. Another person of interest to the Dark Lord that needed to be eliminated, and since Cruxis killed without mercy or really much effort for that matter, she had been selected to take care of the problem. Why in the hell he had been told to constantly tag along with her was lost on him though, it was as if they knew he was painfully weak. Set up the weakest with the sickest and either he'll break, or she'll eventually rid of him too. He swallowed hard at the thought. Convert or destroy what if that included him too?

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" The serge through her bones was electrifying, her wet locks stood up for the moment on end, making her look more insane than previously. It hadn't been a long time since she had uttered the killing curse, but the unspeakable spell made her feel so alive (when the rest of the world proceeded to kill her slowing from the outside in) that she longed to release them more often. Bram took a cautious step back, his own wand at the ready incase this little battle wasn't over just from the drop of Cruxis' words.


	7. Chapter 7

The twitch of her muscles sent Jason van Zyl hurling himself at the wall, behind a heap of trash bins as he watched the green light explode out from the woman's wand. 'Jesus,' he whispered to the violent electric crack that leveled the street in front of him. He had less than a second to react to her movement and he had made the right choice in cutting off his smugness right there. It wasn't even a second between himself and death this time. Of course, his luck wasn't exactly what one would call perfect in this incident.

In his haste to prevent getting brutally murdered and left to be gorged upon my sewer rats Jason has failed to protect his wand from and sort of damage and it rested in his hands cracking lightly and hanging together only by a few sinews of wood, and it's dragon heart-string core. He tried to avoid cursing audibly as he felt his knees and palms bleeding from his slide on the gravelly street. That would have the shark thinking it was a job well done. Time to catch her off guard. He did all he could not to breathe.

He heard her shoes on the ground, she was moving though his ears were ringing from the blast and he could not tell where they were heading towards. Perhaps to check out the body, and perhaps to let her cowardly assistant know that she was not messing around either way. He was not going to let the woman get away with this. Not now, and not ever. People had tried to kill him in cold blood before, but none had expected him to die this easily, and frankly he was insulted by her confidence. You didn't shoot Jason once and expect him to stay down.

The broken wand presented a problem. It couldn't be trusted in this state. He looked at it, his brain whirring. Despite all of his violent mannerisms, if Jason had gone to Hogwarts he would have been in Ravenclaw. He knew if he sent a killing curse there was a good chance it would mostly explode the alley and vaporize everyone present, including himself. He didn't have any tape or glue handy, of course. He held his wand around the centre, hoping to keep the core in one piece long enough to fire a curse off. If he could get her off her feet, there was a chance that he could...

He paused and looked around for something he could club the woman with. A rock. A rock would do. He'd have to get really close, or be a fucking crack shot with his aim or risk death. Something else, fuck he did not have much more time before his breathing gave him away as for sure alive. He slid his fingers over the cracked pavement his fingers resting on a board. He paused. This just might do it. Only the problem of the other man remained and at this point, he was going to take the chance that he would be too busy wetting himself to be much of a threat when zombie Jason returned from the grave to deliver some punishment. Here goes nothing.

Lithely pushing himself to his feet with his now bleeding hands Jason, gripping what thankfully turned out to be a rotting two by four, he staggered a bit from the weakness in his knees but fired a stunning curse. His aim was true which, if he was thinking about it could probably be chalked up as his second miracle of the night. From there it was only three of his long strides to where the witch had hit the opposing wall like a rag doll; he dropped his broken wand in his haste. The South African cracked her once, harshly in the skull with his two by four, grunting with the effort, the weapon slippery in his bloody hands. She wasn't dead, he paused before hitting her several times in the rib cage and stamping on her wrist. "Try it again," he snarled loudly. "Oy, bitch, try it again!"

His own blood, and now 'Desdemona's' on his face, Jason remembered her little friend and he whirled on his heel, blue eyes deranged with blood lust and fury he snarled at the other Death Eater "You have a problem, man?" His broken wand crackling on the pavement. "Oy," He waved the two-by-four aggressively. "Do. You. Have. A. Fucking. Problem?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Bram Corbet – a reluctant Death Eater looking for any way out so as to not place his wife or children in harm's way.**

XxX

Even through the pounding storm that loomed over them, the man was able to watch the events of the moment (abet in slow motion, or so they felt) unfold drastically, yet he made no effort to participate. Cruxis' had missed her target; although Bram was quite sure she had not realized it by the way she was carelessly walking around the ally towards where van Zyl's body should have laid. He should have warned her, but he couldn't bring himself to even murmur the words, because that bloody wench deserved whatever it was that she brought upon herself. Of course he hadn't considered the repercussions of decision at the time, the fact that if Cruxis' did falter and in turn was brutally slain; he was going to have to answer to it. The beauty of the moment seemed too surreal to digest, let alone think so far ahead.

Bram saw it happen before Desdemona did, watched as a blood-crazed Zyl burst out from the ground with a stunning curse, hitting her square in the chest like a wrecking ball. The grunt in her voice was screeching in his ears, even above the hail like rain, obviously taken by surprise by the still living Order Member. Shocked eyes widened as they followed the Death Eater being slammed into the opposing wall like a piece of garbage, falling limp onto the wet cobblestones beneath her with no further time to react. His own hand fondled the base of his wand, preparing himself if indeed he was next (which in all likely hood he should have been), but stopped at the feel of the wood in his grasp in frozen awe. Zyl, had he seriously just picked up a two by four? This man very well may have been his idol.

Lunging forward towards the slaughter, he stopped about six feet away before thinking twice about his decision. The last thing he had wanted was to get into a fist fight with this deranged lunatic, because as strong and as vicious as Bram could be, he wasn't sure how long he would last against a plank of wood in the hands of the insane. Withheld breath he watched the man lash out against his attacker, belting her against the skull with all of his madness before moving on towards her ribs and stomping upon her wrists. Cruxis wasn't moving and Bram had assumed after the first initial beatings to the head she had slipped into unconsciousness, she was too stubborn for death.

Blood mixed with the rain water trickling its way down the alley and into the nearby street, most of it from Des although some of it was Jason's; and Bram was momentarily distracted by the strange sight that he had neglected to see the rage that was turned on him. With a small step back, and a stance that showed he was both unarmed and indifferent to the situation, Corbet snarled back at him. "A two by four? A _bloody_ two by four! Seriously mate? Do you even know, " the rise in his voice was more from frustration than confrontation, knowing now he was going to have to bring back a broken Cruxis' with a half way decent explanation of what the fuck had happened, "how much _shit_ I'm going to have to answer to for this? How soddening pissed off she's going to be at you? Merlin!"

Pacing, his hands ran through his damp hair and pulled at the roots. "I don't want to fucking fight you, I don't even want to fucking be here and now, fuck. What. The. Fuck. What am I supposed to do!" Now the rant had turned more onto himself that Zyl, who Bram realized could give two shits about his shiny new predicament, after all, he had just narrowly escaped death by the woman he was traveling with. "I have a wife, six month old twins, to hell if you think I want to bloody be here. And now, I have to take this bloody harpy home and hope to the high heavens she doesn't try to murder me. Fucking fabulous." Bending down close to Jason, Bram reached out to start to lift up Cruxis' in a bridal hold, rolling his eyes at the amount of blood that stained his duster. "Seriously, a goddamn _two by four_? (He hadn't noticed the splintered wand mere inches from either of them, too self-absorbed with the disastrous turn of events that had unfolded) You better hope to shit she doesn't remember this, otherwise, she'll find a way to find you, and blow you to pieces."


	9. Chapter 9

The man stood shoulders heaving from his heavy breathing staring at the other man thoroughly drenched with rainwater. Ready to attack with all his might if need be. Adrenaline was rushing in his ears, making him feel furiously powerful. For his own part Jason was thankful for the freezing rain water washing his blood and the woman's into the gutter and cooling his neck and shoulders from the painful effort of bludgeoning the witch. And yet, he stared guardedly, but quizzically at the man, the accomplice and frowned thickly. Not what he was expecting and Jason wasn't sure if he liked it yet. Inversely, without a wand he was in no shape to fight with another wizard, he would get his head exploded from here back to Africa.

His initial impulse was to beat the male with the two by four as well and make a clean job of it. Make sure the woman was dead too, because despite the running water he was pretty sure he could still hear her raspy breathing. But he stopped, confession time wasn't exactly enough to stop his murderous impulses normally, but he did have the whole problem of a wand, and Alex deciding to murder him for being 'reckless'. Jason preferred the term proactive, but apparently that was inappropriate for the situation. He could appreciate much about the older Auror, but his overtly cautious nature was not one of those things.

Still clutching the board like it was some sort of Excalibur he let the Death Eater, who was probably his own age approach the older woman. Slightly paralysed by the retreating of his homicidal and animalistic instincts for blood, he seemed rooted to the spot, though tense with the anticipation of another attack. It was weird, not killing someone because he was being asked to think of the children. Admittedly, he was mute in the face of such an argument but still ready, threatening, should any funny business go down. Just because his first impression was that this man was something of a wimp was no indication that he wasn't just skilled in deception. Jason couldn't trust him, but then, Jason trusted no one.

"I don't really care about the shit you're going to get in, man," said the South African at least a little bit lost in the shock that this was surfacing as a legitimate argument, his accent thick in his voice. "She tried to murder me, think I was at least a little justified in clubbing the old hag with a two-by-four, don't you?" He wasn't sure even what to expect as an answer here. The bitch was on the other man's side to be sure, but inversely, he only seemed mildly irritated rather than exploding with rage that Jason had beaten her in the head and ribs with a makeshift club. The South African has expected to have to fight the other Death Eater off not justify himself.

He wanted to smoke and the rushing rain was preventing it which was getting him angry at the rain. "Jesus, I need a drink," he growled to no one in particular. He tossed the bloodied plank aside and scraped his splintered wand off the pavement, his eyes never leaving the opponent's face. Except to briefly examine the hideous damage done to the wand. Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time he had been forced to replace it. He could probably convince it to grant another spell if he worked at it, and admittedly he felt much more comfortable with it than his previous cave man weapon. He could make the opponent's head explode in fifty different ways.

He tilted his head and ran his left hand through his hair stripping some of the heavy water out of it. "So, what's next?" he asked finally. Realizing that at this rate they were going to stand in the freezing rain staring each other down all night. Or until one of them cracked and went back into the homicidal rage that was only too familiar to Jason. He didn't even know which way he preferred it, except that he would rather not be here without a wand if the witch came to before he had killed her. Not that he was afraid of her, but a little healthy respect of an opponent never hurt and it often helped keep one alive. Always a plus.


	10. Chapter 10

Bram had stopped listening to the male half way through his justification. Surely he understood the need to beat the shit out of Cruxis, he had wanted to do it himself on several occasions, but with the brutality of a plank of wood seemed out of the ordinary. Why not use magic? Perhaps this Order member was indeed as vicious as he was said to be, the real reason for this fool hearted mission the two of them were sent out upon. Seek, convert or destroy. Well, they failed two of the three given objectives; Bram supposed that one was better than none of them at all. It was a small grain of silver lining.

With her body limp and bloodied in his arms, he spun around the alley searching for something. What he was looking for was still a mystery to even himself, because logically Bram should have already been gone from this spot, back in Cruxis' estate leaving her for the rest of The Dark Lord's minions to take care of. Those bastards could worry about getting her beaten ass to Mungo's, because Bram was fucking finished with all of this. He wasn't anyone's patsy, he wasn't a blind follower or a mindless droid, he was a leader; or at least, that's what he felt. Yet here he was, following fatal orders, stuck in this mindless go around; and why? Oh yes, he had a family now and Solaris breathing down his back. There was no feasible escape anymore, if there ever had been one at all.

Kicking the garbage cans around the ally way, the tall pseudo Death Eater found an overhang and a clear area in which to lay her unconscious body, placing Des' down roughly (practically dropping her, but making it look much more graceful). Casually he removed his wand from the pocket of his duster and pointed it towards her chest, allowing a blue stream of light to shoot out and jolt her body as if she had been electrocuted with a thousand bolts of energy. Cruxis' breathing slowed down and eventually halted to a stop, and Bram watched her chest cease from heaving through the puddles of water that formed around her sternum. They joys of suspended sleep animation, she should be good and seemingly dead for at least the remainder of the night.

Grabbing some boxes, he scattered them over her practically lifeless body, shielding her from the outside world until he could take care of the shit later. He was vaguely sure he had heard Zyl say he needed a drink, and they weren't far from his bar, and well, if Bram did get a goddamn cigarette in his system in the next five minutes, he made no guarantees not to restart the battle Desdemona had failed to finish. Turning his attention back towards his so-called enemy, he noted the splintered wand in his hand. "Oy, so that's why you used the two by four. Understandable then." Shrugging it off, he strode towards Jason with a somber look. "Drink, eh? I could use one of those... and a smoke too. This rain isn't very conducive to either of those shits right now... Bloody fucking hell... Come on, follow me."

Walking past Jason, no longer afraid that he was going to try any sort of raging madman-complex beatings, Bram headed towards the street lamps, making a turn to the right towards Leather. "My bar is this way, drinks on me." The voice that said it was raspy and cold, not necessarily friendly, but no longer threatening. "Leave that dirty hag here; I'll take care of her later... if I bloody feel like it. Cunt got what she deserved in my opinion."


End file.
